


"Perform the Trapezius Pynch."

by notquite_somethingelse



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M, Massages, post-BLLB
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 07:59:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5577523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notquite_somethingelse/pseuds/notquite_somethingelse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Ronan gives Adam 3 massages and they get their shit together.</p><p>*forever laughs at the lame-ass pun in the title*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER 1: The Raven Cycle and its characters belong to Maggie Stiefvater, I'm just borrowing them because I'm bored.
> 
> DISCLAIMER 2: don't take anything written here as advice on how to give massages. I have no idea how to give massages and everything I wrote I read from dubious internet sources.
> 
> English is not my first language, sorry if there are mistakes >.>

Adam Parrish stopped reading his biology text with a sigh and stretched his neck once more, trying to get rid of the pain there. The folding chair and table he was working on creaked, as they did every time he moved. He had found them next to some dumpsters. They were cheap and old, but not broken, and it was definitely better than sitting on the floor while using some cardboard boxes as a desk, like he had been doing until then. Besides, when he finished studying he could fold them, thus not invading more space of his already small room above St. Agnes.

He heard a rustle behind him, and wondered for a second if it was Cabeswater wanting to communicate with him, but immediately identified the sound as Ronan moving against the wall he was leaning on, listening to music with his eyes closed.

The other boy had arrived an hour before, at 11pm, asking if he could hang out there. He had seemed restless. Adam, trying to find out the reason for his mood, had asked “where's Gansey?” Ronan had shrugged, but a muscle had tightened in his jaw, so their mutual friend was probably somehow the reason for Ronan to be there. Ronan didn't look like he wanted to talk about it, however, and Adam had things to do, so he hadn't asked further.

Adam kneaded his neck absently while he tried to focus again on his textbook. It's not like Ronan was distracting him. In fact, he usually behaved when he came to visit him. But he was tired and his concentration didn't come as easy as before.

“The hell is wrong with your neck?” Ronan's voice cut through the silence of the room.

“Mnh?” Adam said distractedly, but turned around to look at his friend. He hadn't moved from the spot against the wall he had claimed when he had first entered. One of his long, muscular legs stretched out in front of him, the other one bent enough for him to rest his arm on his knee. He looked like a model with his biker jacket open and his expensive jeans, and it pissed Adam off that he didn't even have to try.

“You haven't stopped rubbing it all evening... Heh.” Ronan snorted after noticing how that sounded out loud, the immature idiot.

Adam shot him a dirty look. “It's nothing, just a bit of muscle pain.” He didn't tell him how the pain had started three days before and didn't show any sign of stopping. Too many evenings hunched over car motors or textbooks; too many nights resting on a too thin mattress.

“You should get a massage.”

It was Adam's turn to snort. “Yes, Lynch, I'll schedule it after my spa appointment,” he said with sarcasm and just a tiny bit of bitterness. He didn't have energy for any more.

“I can give massages,” Ronan said causally without looking at Adam.

Adam did a mental double take. Did Ronan Lynch just offer to give him a massage? Adam hesitated.

His first instinct was rejection. He'd been turning down offers of help for so long, that it was almost a knee-jerk reaction now... But lately he'd changed. And for the better, he thought. He didn't snap at his friends when they tried to do little nice things for him anymore, he'd been trusting them more with who he really was... It had been hard, but the result was that he felt better than he had been in a long time. Maybe this could be another exercise in trust.

But old habits died hard, and he couldn't help but question Ronan's motives. Why was Ronan offering? It was a bit strange, wasn't it? He knew Ronan wasn't as much of a shithead as he liked to seem, had been finding out more and more sides to him in the last month after they had gotten Blue's mom back from that cave and things had calmed down for a bit (only temporally, for sure;) but still, this felt a bit more personal than their normal interactions... Maybe he just wanted to prank him. Or maybe... maybe he had been right about Ronan's feelings? Was Ronan trying to flirt with him? He felt a flutter of nerves in his stomach, he didn't know what to think about that.

“The hell is that suspicious look for? I'm not trying to prank you, idiot.”

Adam tried to school his expression. “Do you even know how to give _proper_ massages?”

“My dad taught me and Declan how to fight and made us train whenever he was home, of course he had to teach us how to relieve muscle pain.”

Adam almost asked if that meant that he used to give massages to Declan. The idea was so against the image he had of the Lynch brothers that he was having trouble processing it. Then again, he supposed, they probably hadn't always hated each other.

Adam still wasn't sure about the massage.

“I gave one to Gansey and he didn't die.” Ronan's dry words had Adam containing a wince. The discovery of Gansey's predicted fate was still too fresh in his mind.

 _Wrongly predicted fate_ , Adam though, ferociously. _He won't die. I won't let him._

He forced himself to focus on the conversation at hand.

“And when exactly did this happen?” he asked with pretend suspicion.

“When the moron found that old Welsh book a year ago and hurt his back by spending the whole night hunched over it, reading like a monk.”

A memory of Gansey telling him about it came to him.

“Oh, yeah, I remember him mentioning the massage... I also remember him saying that it had made him _wish_ he was dead because it had felt like you were trying to break his spine.”

“That's because Gansey is a fucking _baby_ who likes to whine too much. Stupid old man.”

“That doesn't make sense, is he a baby or an old man? Pick an insult, he can't be both.”

“Sure he can.”

And Adam couldn't say anything to that because, well, yeah. He knew he wasn't the only person to see their friend that way. As both old and inexplicably new. People who had a conversation with Gansey for the first time ended up either fascinated by his agelessness or completely bemused by it. It never ceased to entertain Adam to watch their reactions.

He noticed that, while he had been pondering about Gansey's strange existence, a few seconds had passed in silence and that Ronan had apparently taken it as a no to his offer, since he had gone back to his headphones. Adam glanced back at his book, but even if he hadn't been hurting, his eyes were itching and the words had begun to blur with each blink.

So Adam got up from his chair and nudged his friend's side with his foot. Ronan glared at him and took off his headphones.

“Yeah, okay... where should I sit?”

Ronan's eyebrows jumped slightly, apparently surprised that he had accepted the offer.

“Oh. Um. Backwards on the chair will do.” Then he got up and passed him the pillow from the bed. “Here. Put it between your chest and the back of the chair. Use it to rest your chin.”

Adam followed his friend's instructions, even though doubts were still festering in the back of his mind.

“This feels wrong.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” Ronan asked. Did he sound a bit offended?

“It's just that turning my back at something so mean-looking is kind of counter-intuitive.”

He could hear the smirk on Ronan's voice when he answered, “Don't worry, Parrish, you look like too much of a wimp for me to want to fight you.”

Adam's lips twitched in amusement. The familiar insults managing to calm him down. He was making a big deal out of nothing, this was just Ronan. And, granted, lately _just Ronan_ had started to become someone different in Adam's mind. Someone with more depth, more complicated, more intriguing. But he forced himself to ignore all that and think of him as how he used to see him; Ronan: that circumstantial friend he had been during the first few months after Adam had met Gansey.

He heard Ronan stand behind him and felt the other's hands rest on his shoulders. The warmth of them through his t-shirt surprised Adam. He started to do light strokes from his spine to his shoulders with the whole palm.

“I see, so you have some kind of honor code to not fight people weaker than you?” Adam continued their conversation, feeling a bit better if he talked.

“It's got nothing to do with honor, it's that I'd have you surrendering in under a minute, and where's the fun in that? That'd be just _sad_.”

Next, Ronan started to rub small circles with the tips of his fingers from the back of Adam's neck to his shoulders.

“Overconfidence has often been the downfall of many great people, you know?”

“It's not overconfidence if you can back it up, and I can. Now shut up. This is supposed to be relaxing, how are you going to relax when you can hear your own irritating voice?”

“Aren't you talking about _your_ voice?”

“My voice's a fucking delight.”

“Sing me a lullaby, then.”

“I'll sing the Murder Squash if you don't shut up already.”

“Please don't. My apologies.”

He heard Ronan mutter something about teenagers who didn't listen to the authority and Adam had to bite his lip in order not to retort to that one.

Ronan continued the massage, alternating between strokes to his neck and the soft kneading of shoulder muscles. It felt good. Too good, maybe. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had touched him for so long like this, without any violence. Definitely since he stopped being a little boy who could climb on his mother's lap. Without the bickering to distracting him from the gentle touches, he was starting to feel a little overwhelmed, a bit vulnerable... But at the same time, he didn't want it to stop.

Just when Adam was feeling warm and relaxed, sinking more into the pillow and wondering distantly what Gansey had been complaining about, Ronan dug his thumb mercilessly against a point in Adam's neck.

“Ow!” Adam complained while turning his head enough to glare at his friend from the corner of his eye. “Ronan, what the hell!”

“Hey, this is how you get rid of knots, which are what's making you ache. It's not my fault your neck and back are literally shit right now.”

Adam settled back into the pillow with one final glare. “I don't think 'literally' means what you think it means, Lynch,” he grumbled.

“Don't get smart with me, Parrish... your neck is on the line.”

“Oh my God.”

Luckily, Ronan decided to spare him from any more terrible jokes and proceeded to ruthlessly attack any tension knots he found in his way. At least that's what Adam thought he was doing. He could also be torturing him to take revenge for whatever it was Adam had done to deserve this.

Adam grunted after a especially uncomfortable squeeze at the side of his neck. He had gotten way worse than this throughout his life, but that didn't mean that this was pleasant.

“Just tell me what you want to know, I'll tell you. You don't need this Torture and Interrogation crap.”

“Spoken like a true wimp. Okay, then. Is it true that you wet your bed until you were 12? It's true, isn't it?”

“You are hilarious.”

“I know. Anyway, there's only one more to go, so...”

“But is it a real 'just one more' though? Or is it like when P.E. teachers say 'just one more lap' and then make us run five more?”

“You should know already that I never lie, Parrish.”

Adam made a non-committal sound.

Just like he promised, Ronan soon stopped digging his thumbs in the other's muscles and started once again the light kneading and stroking from the beginning. Adam let out a breath of relief and sank a bit in the pillow he was using.

However, with this kind of contact, the vulnerable feeling came back. Ronan's soothing touches were beginning to unwind something that had been burrowing in his chest perhaps for too long. It was a strange sensation. Like the disinfection of a wound. Like he was being forced to acknowledge and feel the loneliness inside him while at the same time Ronan's touch told him time and again a comforting message: _you are not alone_.

Something trembled in Adam's chest and he couldn't contain a slightly shaky sigh. He prayed to the heavens that Ronan hadn't heard it. Maybe life was willing to give him a break for once, because the other teenager didn't make any sign of having heard it and continued the massage for a few more minutes. He was getting so terribly sleepy.

Then Ronan broke the silence. “I actually have a question for you, even though I've stopped the torture part of the interrogation.”

“Yes?” Adam tried to say, although it sounded more like, ' _mmrnh?'_

“Can I sleep here tonight?”

“Sure.”

Adam thought for a second about asking why he wanted to stay, even though Ronan had stayed the night more than once without any need for explanations. But then he remember Ronan saying that he never lied, and it somehow felt dangerous to ask. If he had been more awake, he would have questioned that feeling. He never let instinct lead him- except for Cabeswater matters,- he always rationalized everything. But right then, his rational mind was putty beneath Ronan's hands. So he just agreed and let himself enjoy the end of the massage.

 


	2. Chapter 2

The sound of pool balls crashing against each other echoed in the main room of Monmouth Manufacturing, and Ronan saw ball number 2 disappear in one of the pockets of the table, like he had intended.

“Nice one,” Noah said amiably from where he was leaning against the table. Noah didn't care whether he was winning or losing (he was always losing), he just genuinely liked playing pool. He was getting better at it, though, thanks to Ronan's impromptu lessons.

Today Ronan wasn't in the mood for lessons, however. And his head wasn't in the game as he half-heartedly examined the position of the balls to decide his next play. No, his head was– as it was wont to be lately when nothing important was going on– on Adam Parrish.

He could still feel in his hands the warmth of Adam's back through his thin t-shirt, the feeling of the fair hairs of his nape, the soft bumps of his spine...

This time, when he hit the white ball, he only managed to move some balls around, which was, if you asked Ronan, good enough given his state of mind. Noah seemed to agree with an absent smirk as he grabbed his own stick for his turn.

They were all meeting at Monmouth that evening to discuss Glendower related stuff or go to Cabbeswater or just hang out, depending on Gansey's mood, really. Adam was meant to arrive any minute now, and that knowledge filled Ronan with nervous energy.

The last few days had been... tiring. Mentally. Something was changing between him and Adam. Or at least he thought so. Maybe it was all wishful thinking.

But no, he hadn't imagined catching Adam looking at him. And not in that I'm-an-ancient-sentient-forest-looking-through-a-teenage-boy's-eyes way he did sometimes. A couple of times Adam had been looking at Ronan in a spaced-out but human kind of way, which could have just been caused by boredom in class. But he'd also been looking at him intently, with narrowed eyes, like he wanted to crack Ronan's head against the school desk to see what was inside. It was a very powerful stare, and Ronan thought he would've ended up doing exactly that if it had continued for long. But luckily, Adam always broke eye contact when he was discovered. Or pretended he wanted to borrow a pencil or something.

The thing was that Ronan had no idea what was behind those stares– Parrish had a good poker face, the fucker,– he just knew what he _wanted_ to be there.

Ronan knew very well what he was doing when when he had taken Adam to the Barns to rifle through dream things, and when he'd made him a shitty mixtape, and when he'd brought him into the church at night. Ronan wouldn't call it flirting or seducing. (Could someone seduce Adam Parrish?) He was trying to make Adam see him.

Obviously, Adam knew he existed. But he hadn't really known him... That had been intentional on Ronan's part, at least at the beginning. Ronan had always been a private person, what with the need for secrecy about his and Niall Lynch's abilities. But after losing his father, he hid even more parts of himself to others. He only let them see what they couldn't hurt; the bad attitude, the aggressive music, the car-racing. But that wasn't going to be enough. Not if he wanted Adam's attention.

Ronan knew the other boy pretty well, how his mind worked. He knew that Adam didn't like unanswered questions or unresolved puzzles. So he was presenting himself as one, giving Adam one piece of his puzzle at a time. He was quite sure that Adam was intrigued by it, but in the same way that Blue had been intrigued by him at first, the same way Gansey had been. If there was something more to it, Ronan couldn't see it. However, he didn't think that there was anything else he could do about it. One couldn't force his way into Adam Parrish's interest. Like with everything, it would be on Adam's terms or not at all. It was funny how one of the characteristics he liked most about Adam was also one that was causing him so much frustration and headaches right now.

“Maybe we have a Valium around,” Noah said, apparently out of the blue. “Your turn.”

After he was in position, just as he was going to take the shot, the door opened and Adam's voice echoed in the room.

“Hey, guys.”

Ronan startled and the point of his pool stick scrapped horribly agains the green table top. Noah snickered mischievously. He had probably calculated that, the little shit.

“Hey, Adam,” the ghost said cheerfully. “Wanna play with us?”

“No, thanks,” Parrish said while letting himself fall on the leather sofa and rubbing his hands. “I don't feel like suffering another crushing defeat today,”

“ _Another_ defeat?” Noah asked.

“Yeah... I've been beaten by a Peugeot.”

Ronan scoffed. “Lame.”

“A woman brought it like two hours ago and explained the problem, and I've been working on it until my shift finished, but I still have no idea what's wrong with it.”

“What is it like? Is it a very old model?” Ronan asked

Adam proceeded to tell them the year of the model and the distinguishing mechanical features that it had. Ronan understood, like, twenty percent of it all.

“Adam, he's not gonna understand you if you say it like that. Here, let me translate, I speak Ronan.” Then Noah made a show of touching his chin in thought and taking a deep breath before saying, carefully, as if speaking a different language, “it's _ugly as fuck_ and _old as balls_.”

Adam's shoulders shook in silent laughter while flexing his fingers discreetly. Ronan changed hands on his pool stick and leaned towards Noah threateningly, like he was gonna go after him. The smudgy boy took a hurried step backwards, prepared to run if necessary, a playful grin dancing on his lips. Sometimes he looked too much like a puppy, it was unsettlingly endearing.

“Don't tell Gansey,” Ronan said to Adam, but still watching Noah form the corner of his eye, waiting until he lowered his guard to tackle him. “He'd be so fucking disappointed. You'll lose your reputation as the car whisperer.”

“That's true,” Noah concurred, “like a little kid finding out Santa isn't real, you can't crush his dreams like that.”

Adam simply rolled his eyes at them, as if they were exaggerating and Gansey didn't think that Adam was the best thing that'd ever happened since the invention of boat shoes.

“Speaking of, where's Gansey?”

“Texted me a bit ago, said he was going to pick up Blue from Nino's” Ronan said.

“What? Why didn't you tell me?” Noah asked, surprised.

He shrugged. “You didn't ask.”

“I wanted to pick up Blue, too,” Noah said in a pouty voice. Ronan didn't say what he was thinking, which was that maybe Gansey wanted to pick her up alone. The ghost seemed to make a decision. “I'm going with them.” And before neither of them could say anything else, their friend disappeared with a, “Don't destroy the house while we're gone!”

The sudden departure left a short silence behind.

“What's the fucking rush? She's gonna come here anyway.”

“Maybe he was trying to avoid the tackle he was seeing coming,” Adam said with a raised eyebrow.

Ronan smirked, sometimes they all knew each other too well.

“Where's Chainsaw?” Adam asked, looking around.

“She took off, since we weren't doing anything interesting. She's taken to fly around and bring back gifts.”

“Gifts?”

“Yeah, like pretty rocks and shiny shit. The other day she brought back a watch. Looked expensive as hell, and was working perfectly fine. I think she stole it from someone.”

Adam laughed, shaking his head a bit.

“What?”

“I just remembered that comment Gansey made once, just after you got Chainsaw, about how he didn't want to have a child with you? And it's like she really is the child of you both: she got the habit of collecting pretty things from Gansey, and the inclination to obtain them illegally from you.”

Ronan grinned at that, feeling pleased, but sobered up when he noticed the other boy rubbing his hands again.

“Hey, are you cold? You look like a second-rate super-villain when you do that with your hands.”

“I could never usurp your villain position, Lynch, if that's what you're worried about,” Adam evaded.

“No, you could not, I did say _second-rate_.” Ronan joked, but indicated with his stare that he wasn't gonna let this go.

Adam sighed. “I'm not cold, we've just had a lot of work today at the garage.”

“Right.” So his hands were hurting.

Something warred inside Ronan.

There was something he really wanted to do. But he wanted it so much it frightened him.

Instead, he said, “Want a painkiller?”

“Nah, it'll pass.”

They used to have a cream for muscle pain, but since Gansey and him quit the row team and tennis respectively, he had no idea where it was.

A part of Ronan warned him that what he wanted to do was dangerous, but he had never been very good at listening to that part of himself... So he didn't.

Without saying anything, he walked to his room, retrieved a small white recipient and threw it to Adam's lap when he was close enough to the sofa.

Adam took it and looked at it and then at Ronan quizzically.

“Put that on your hands, I'm gonna teach you how to give yourself a hand massage.”

Then Adam opened the container and saw that it was the same cream Ronan had left in his car some weeks ago.

“Oh. You use this stuff too?”

“No, it's... I thought you might be running out, since there wasn't much...”

“Oh,” Adam repeated. “I was. Running out. Thanks.” Then, “Ronan, you don't have to...”

“Shut up, Parrish,” Ronan interrupted, feeling a bit awkward. “There's nothing better to do here until Gansey and the maggot come anyway. Now scoot back and put that crap in your fucking hands.”

His friend snorted. “Well, if you ask so nicely...” But he did as told, and Ronan took a seat beside him on the sofa, facing Adam, one of his legs on the cushions and foot in the air while his other foot was still planted on the floor.

After applying the lotion, Adam adopted that same position to face Ronan, the now familiar scent of mist and moss drifting in the air around them. “Okay, how do I do this?”

“First you need to locate the pain. If you're not sure what's hurting exactly, open and close your hands a few times, like fucking Noah when he sees some glittery shit.”

Adam smirked at the comparison and followed his instructions. Then he indicated which part was aching.

“Alright, first we'll start with the fingers. Start massaging the pinky.”

“How? Like this?”

“No, like– kinda upwards... towards the knuckle. Not so fast. Jesus, Parrish, what are you even doing?”

“What you told me!” exclaimed Adam, indignant.

“Just. Just gimme,” said Ronan, indicating Adam to give him his hand. The other hesitated for a second before obeying.

Ronan held Adam's left hand, palm down, with one of his, and with the other he started massaging Adam's fingers, starting at the tip and going slowly to the knuckle.

“Like this,” Ronan said. Shit, did his voice sound strained just now? Had Adam noticed? “Idiot,” he added just in case.

“Whatever,” Adam grumbled, but he didn't ask to take his hand back, so Ronan continued the massage.

_What am I doing?_

Ronan would have pinched himself if he hadn't thought it would look too fucking weird. Besides, it wasn't like pain always woke him up when he was dreaming.

When he finished with Adam's slender fingers, he started to massage the back of his hand slowly, pressing along the finger bones towards the wrist, his thumb sliding easily over skin and veins thanks to the lotion, taking a bit more time in the areas Adam had said he was hurting. After that, he massaged his bony, elegant wrist, making circular motions with his thumb while his other fingers held it. He could feel Adam's strong pulse, and it was driving him a bit crazy.

He could hardly believe this was happening. That after months of staring and thinking and dreaming of Adam's hands, he was finally touching them. Maybe it wasn't _exactly_ how he had wanted it to happen, but it was more than what he thought he'd ever get, some days. With Adam's feelings still a mystery to him, some days hope was more difficult to keep than others.

After taking care of the wrist, he turned Adam's hand, with more care than he wanted to admit even to himself, and began to massage the palm.

“It looks like you're going to read my palm,” Adam's voice broke the quiet and Ronan glanced at his face, something he hadn't dared to do since he took his friend's hand. However, Adam didn't return the look, he was staring at their hands, and he accompanied the comment with a small smile that looked a bit too tight. Shit, was his technique bad? Or was Adam nervous? The good kind of nervous or the bad? Fuck, was Ronan making him uncomfortable...? “Are you gonna tell me my future?”

“You're the one who runs around with tarot cards in his bag. You can read your own damn future if you want.”

“Yeah, I doubt that. Somehow I can never seem to know or notice things when they're about myself. Tarot cards or not.” Adam's voice had sounded bitter and immediately after saying that he pressed his lips together, like it was something he wished he'd not said.

Ronan's eyes widened a bit. Being the sort of reserved creature Adam was, that kind of slip was nothing short of a miracle.

Ronan's lips stretched in a humorless smirk. “Not knowing yourself is frustrating as hell.”

Adam glanced up at that. “Speaking from experience?”

“You bet. It's not like my father ever sat me down to give me the Greywaren talk. And for a while, thinking that he'd gone with the answers to all my questions... Not knowing what I was, what exactly I could do, if I was the only one... Well, it fucked me up.”

Ronan – who had looked downwards while saying all that, still continuing the massage – glanced up at the silence that followed. He found Adam looking at him. No, not just looking at him. _Seeing_ him.

He had the same expression he always had when he found out something new about Ronan. Like he was adjusting the image he had of his friend in his mind.

The feeling of being _seen_ made Ronan's heart beat faster. It was thrilling. Or frightening. Or both.

_See me. Want me. Choose me._

In the end, he had to break their stare, because the yearning it woke in his chest hurt too much to bear without setting something on fire.

He turned his gaze to their hands, hiding it from Adam's penetrant eyes.

“But now you know what you are. _Greywaren_.” The word resonated inside Ronan like it never did when Gansey or Blue used it. It seemed to echo in his chest and in his head, just like when he called Adam _magician_.

“Yeah. I still got some questions, but it's... it's better now.”

Adam hummed and let himself fall sidewise slowly, until he was leaning against the back of the leather sofa. After a couple of minutes, Ronan finished the massage that he had been prolonging and placed the other's hand down. He then asked wordlessly for Adam's other hand and contained his surprise when the other teenager actually gave it to him. This was supposed to be an opportunity for Adam to learn how to massage his own hands, after all, but Ronan was glad that his friend had apparently forgot about that.

The longer the massage continued, the slower became Adam's breaths and the lower his eyelids stayed after each blink, until he fell asleep. Ronan had lost count over how many times Adam had slept in the same room, or car, or patch of grass as him. But it never ceased to amaze him that Adam – who was always alert in public, who had to keep tabs of where everyone was, what they were doing – was comfortable enough with him and their little group to abandon himself to sleep in front of them.

Nevertheless, a loud sound from Ronan's pocket disturbed the silence and he cursed darkly while reaching for his phone as Adam regained consciousness. It was a text from Gansey.

“What is it?” the sleepy boy asked.

“Gansey says Blue's picking another shift after hers, so she won't be coming, and asks if we want something to eat from Nino's.”

“I'm good,” Adam answered predictably.

Ronan looked at him hesitantly before saying, “dude, maybe you should go get some rest. I mean, we're not going anywhere without Blue, so.”

“I still need to finish the English task for tomorrow.”

“Have you seen your face? Your eyes have more bags than that fucking old man Malory.” Ronan knew that Adam always took longer completing school assignments when he was sleep deprived, and that was his sleep deprived (more than usual) face. “Go to sleep now and wake up a bit earlier tomorrow to do it.”

It was perhaps a testament of how out of it Adam was at the moment that he didn't cut Ronan with some snarky remark, and instead mumbled wearily, “I'm afraid that if I go to sleep now I won't wake up in time tomorrow.”

“I'll make sure you wake up tomorrow,” Ronan said thoughtlessly. “C'mon, I'm driving you to your place,” he said as he practically pulled Adam from the sofa to a standing position.

“Will you _really_ wake me up?”

“Yeah, I promise, you stubborn bastard.” Ronan had to steer him to the door with a hand on his back. No, really. It wasn't that he wanted to keep contact with Adam. He _had to_. “Now _let's go_.”

…................................................................

The sounds of soft breathing, pen against paper, and the wakening birds outside Adam's window seemed to be the only ones in the world.

As Adam wrote the last lines of his English task, the first rays of sunshine started to sneak into the room above St. Agnes. It must have been something past seven, so they'd have to start preparing for their eight o'clock class soon. Adam turned his head to his asleep guest, wondering how long would it take him to convince Ronan to get up and go to class.

Like he had promised the night before, Ronan had showed up at Adam's room at five a.m. with a couple of donuts and a thermo full of hot coffee to make sure he woke up with enough time to finish his homework. Adam, always slow to wake up in the mornings, had accepted one of the donuts and the coffee with a thankful grunt, had gone to splash his face with water and had focussed on his work. When he had noticed that Ronan was trying not to fall asleep against a wall, he'd told him to 'just take the bed and sleep.'

So that's how Ronan had ended up wrapped up in Adam's sheets on his bed. He was laying on his side, facing Adam, with half his face smashed against the pillow and his lips slightly parted. The increasing, soft, morning light caressed his face and elongated the shadows of Ronan's eyelashes on his cheeks.

Adam felt himself grow warm from the inside looking at him, his heart beating heavy but steady thumps against his ribs. He looked at the thermo with the now cold coffee, the kindness of the gesture not escaping him; he brushed his hands together, recalling the incredible feeling of Ronan's hands against his; he closed his eyes and remembered Ronan's own blue irises watching him with his wild intensity… and he felt himself give up. He didn't know when it had started, but he couldn't ignore his feelings anymore nor could he rationalize them as anything different than what it was... He liked Ronan.

Why, how, when had it happened?

He was bemused, because... Since when had liking boys started being a possibility for him?

But if he was being honest, him liking boys as well as girls – in general, as a concept – was easier to accept than him liking Ronan... romantically.

 _He's lazy_ , Adam told himself. But he knew it was a lie even before his brain provided him with an image of Ronan trying to find a way to wake the Barns' cows, with tireless dedication.

 _He's reckless_. But his recklessness wasn't born from lack of intelligence. He had been convinced of Ronan's brilliance after seeing the kind of things he could dream into existence. And Adam himself had a reckless streak he couldn't deny.

 _He's rude and snarky_. But that didn't mean he never showed care or affection. A hundred examples of that came to the forefront of his mind: Ronan letting his mother touch him affectionately, Ronan ruffling Mathew's curls, Ronan protecting Blue from falling in the cave, Ronan rough-housing with Noah, Ronan punching Gansey in the arm while smiling warmly... Ronan caressing Adam's hands...

It seemed that talking his way out of his crush on Ronan wasn't going to work.

He couldn't convince himself that Ronan wasn't someone he wanted, because he _was_.

Adam breathed a long, pained sigh as he contemplated Ronan sleeping peacefully on his bed.

His shitty IKEA mattress had never looked so inviting... or so impossible to reach.

Adam sighed wearily again and gazed at Ronan as he became one more thing he wanted but couldn't have.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmmrrrnrhgh... I feel like I don't know Ronan as well as the others because we only had his POV in TDT, but I tried to make this as in-character as I could... hope it came out okay.


	3. Chapter 3

The light of a candle danced in front of Adam and bathed his features in changing shadows.

As he started coming back from scrying, he became aware of the darkened room, the sound of water drops hitting the window glass and the scent of rain.

Ronan and him were currently in the living room at the Barns. The rain clouds had darkened the room – despite it being a late afternoon – while Ronan dreamt, stretched out on a long sofa, and Adam scried on a extremely comfortable armchair.

Adam turned away from the candle, the strong light not helping with the headache that he could feel coming, and his eyes fell on Ronan's figure. His friend hadn't woken up yet.

Just earlier that day, Ronan had picked him up from work and had demanded his help in creating a dream thing.

Almost two months ago, after their whole ordeal in the cave where Maura had been trapped, they had gone to Cabeswater to try the unfathomable dream thing on Aurora Lynch, to keep her awake even outside of the mystical forest. Nevertheless, it didn't work.

They thought maybe the reason was because they had tried it without Gwenllian the first time, so they brought her with them the next time, but with the same result. Even Gansey's powerful voice couldn't keep her awake once away from Cabeswater.

So Ronan had thought maybe if Adam and him worked together on a new dream thing, they would get it right this time. And Adam had accepted to help, despite being exhausted, because the fact that Ronan had wanted to work with him in something as important as this made him incredibly proud.

His train of thought got stuck on that. On the strange connection he had with Ronan because of Cabeswater, on how good it felt, on how Adam loved his role as the magician in their little group... Well, as _one_ of the magicians, alongside Ronan. He thought back on how it had felt to face the dangers of the cave together with Ronan, working together, talking to Cabeswater so it would let them pass. He had felt useful, necessary, and like he _belonged_... And his unexpected feelings for Ronan were endangering all those good things.

He was pretty sure now that Ronan had a crush on him, but what would it lead to? What would happen to them and their group if they got into a relationship and Ronan lost interest? What would happen next year when Adam left for university? Their future was so uncertain...

“You're watching me again.”

Adam startled a little at Ronan's gruff voice, but covered up his embarrassment at having been caught quickly.

“Well, you weren't waking up, I was wondering if I would have to resuscitate you.”

Ronan's lips quirked in a smirk with his eyes still closed, but didn't say anything, and Adam had to suppress the urge to smack himself, because resuscitation lead him to think about CPR which lead him to think about kissing Ronan, and he somehow knew Ronan had made the same connection.

The smirk quickly disappeared from Ronan's face once he sat up and the thing he'd dreamt into existence crumbled in his hands and fell in pieces and dust onto the floor.

They remained in bewildered silence for a second.

“It wasn't supposed to look like that.”

“No shit, Parrish.” Ronan snarled. “What the fuck? This has never happened before.”

Adam's stomach hollowed out. “The ley line doesn't feel any different... Maybe it's my fault, maybe you can't bring things back if there's someone else interfering with your dreams.” So much for being useful.

“No,” Ronan said, “Maybe it _was_ because you were there, but I'll just have to get used to it. I'll get it right next time.” Like always, he didn't care that something seemed impossible, he was going to do it anyway.

“Not right now, though.” Adam said, pressing two fingers against his temple. “Let's rest for a few minutes... Can I have some water?”

“Sure.”

He was surprised when his friend actually went to the kitchen to get him a glass.

Lynch came back with a glass of water and a little box of painkillers. At Adam's raised eyebrows he said, “You got a headache, don't you?”

Adam was starting to feel unnerved about how much Ronan noticed about him.

However, as Adam took the box, he noticed that it was covered by a fine layer of dust. Suspicious, he looked for the expiration date and... yep.

“These expired two months ago.”

Ronan straightened up from his place at the sofa and his eyes widened a bit. He even looked a bit apologetic. “Shit.”

“I'm afraid your plan to poison me has failed, Mr. Lynch.”

That made Ronan scowl, but without any heat. “Don't be stupid, Parrish. There are a hundred better ways to kill a person. Poisoning is _boring_.”

Adam didn't comment on that and settled for drinking his water.

“We can stop for today if you want,” Ronan offered.

“It's fine. It's not like we have anything else to do, and we can't drive back in this rain.”

They both turned to look outside the window. The rain was so thick that it was impossible to see further than 15 feet.

“Yeah, I think I just saw a fucking fish swimming in there.”

“You know, I'm aware that you're joking, but in this place I'm rather inclined to believe anything.”

Ronan smirked, clearly proud of this place full of oneiric wonders and impossible things that he called home.

“Then take a damn nap.”

“A bit difficult to take naps when your head's pounding,” Adam deadpanned. “Let's just try to do this dream thing again.”

“Right, you're telling me that the headache won't let you sleep but you'll be totally fine concentrating enough to bring abstract ideas into existence.”

Adam knew that Ronan was right and that he'd probably wouldn't be of much use if he went into the dream with Ronan right then, but he didn't want to admit it, so he kept quiet.

Ronan sighed, but then he tapped lazily the seat next to him in the sofa. “Just come here, loser.”

Adam squinted his eyes at him in wariness and didn't move. “Why?”

The other boy just wiggled a bit his fingers and said, “Magic fingers.”

His heart did an awkward jolt when Adam realized what Ronan was saying. “Yeah, right. Now you know how to get rid of headaches, too?”

“I'm offended by your tone, Mr. Sceptic. Why wouldn't I? Now get here before I make you.”

A part of Adam wanted to refuse because of the clear danger the situation presented and because of Ronan's annoyingly haughty tone. However, he knew that if he didn't comply, Lynch would become unbearable, so he gave in. It didn't have anything to do with another part of him wanting to feel Ronan's touch again.

Adam sat on the sofa facing the other boy, with his legs crossed on the seat, while Ronan kept one bent leg against the back of the sofa and the other one on the floor, so Adam was kind of bracketed between his legs.

In order to avoid an awkward silence, Adam mumbled, “this is becoming a habit.”

“Not my fault you have more aches than fucking Malory. You're kinda high-maintenance.”

Adam tried not to let the comment sting. He knew by Ronan's tone that he was teasing him, but he couldn't quiet the voice in his head that whispered to him, _too much work, not worth it, who would want such a damaged thing..._

He didn't notice he had spaced out for a moment until Ronan's voice slammed his mind back into his body.

“Stop that.”

Adam sent him a confused look. Ronan looked angry, or maybe frustrated. But Adam hadn't done anything... Nevertheless, Ronan didn't give him a chance to ask what he meant, as he began to explain what he was going to do.

“Alright, so there's more than one way to do this, we'll try first the temporalis muscles, which are these ones,” he reached both hands to Adam's face, and hesitated a second before touching his skin. He indicated which muscles he meant by running his fingers purposely either side of Adam's face, from the top of his jaw, over the top of his ears and behind them. Adam had to force his breathing to remain normal. “And you gotta open and close your jaw while I massage.”

That was weird. Adam scrunched his nose at that last bit.“Is that necessary?”

“Hey, I don't make the fucking rules.”

He was a bit doubtful, but did it anyway, and he guessed that it made sense, as that action as well as Ronan's kneading were aimed at working the same muscle. He hadn't done it more than 5 times, however, when he heard Ronan snort before letting out a guffaw. Adam immediately felt his hackles rise.

“What?!”

“I underestimated how stupid that would look,” Ronan said between snickers. “You look like a damn cow ruminating.”

“I swear to god, Lynch, if you made me do that just to laugh at me...”

“Settle down, I didn't make that shit up. But I think I'm gonna try something else 'cause I can't fucking look at you if you do that.”

Adam rolled his eyes, but was relieved at the same time. This Ronan, laughing at him and being annoying, he knew how to deal with. “Where did you even learnt to do this anyway? Did your dad teach you this too?”

“Nope, I learnt this from the best and wisest teacher I've ever had.” Ronan made a pause for dramatic timing and to enjoy Adam's bewildered expression. “Youtube.”

Adam snorted, but his lips twitched in an amused smile.

“I didn't know you got headaches,” he said as Ronan settled his thumbs on Adam's temples and started to make firm circles with his thumbs.

“I don't.”

“Then why did you look it up? For Gansey?”

There was a pause before Ronan answered, in a softer voice than Adam had expected, “... No.”

And suddenly, the tension that had evaporated with Ronan's laughter came back and Adam's lungs started to act up again.

Adam lowered his eyes, since looking at Ronan's face wasn't helping at all with his breathing or the erratic beats of his heart. Even if it was a nice face. A very nice face. With strong cheekbones, and long eyelashes, and a focussed expression that made Adam think of stupid adjectives like “endearing”.

Ronan's thumbs travelled slowly in circular motions from his temples, over his forehead and to lightly massage the bridge of his nose. He felt one of Ronan's fingers caress accidentally the shell of his ear and goosebumps erupted along his nape. He tensed himself against a shiver.

Why was he doing this? This was dangerous. He should tell Ronan that it was enough, that he couldn't feel his headache anymore. He should stop this.

Instead, he let Ronan's fingers run through his hair, massaging his scalp, which started to tingle pleasurably.

His eyes fell closed unconsciously as he sighed through his lips with a soft sound.

Ronan's hands were traveling further to the back his head, until he had to scoot closer to Adam to reach the base of his skull.

The sound of Ronan moving made Adam open his eyes thoughtlessly, and they immediately locked with Ronan's.

The fingers at the back of his head stopped moving, although they didn't retreat, and he saw Ronan's breath hitch in his throat, which moved up and down in a nervous swallow.

Ronan looked like a deer in headlights, only, apart from the surprise, Adam could also discern an intensity that was drawing him in, magnetized.

Adam's rational mind, with his now fuzzy thoughts of why any kind of feelings for Ronan beyond friendship were a bad idea, was fighting a losing battle against a part of him that was just telling him to _kiss him, kiss him, kiss him..._

He saw Ronan swallowing again before speaking with a rugged voice, “Adam...”

It was right then that Adam's entire mind blanked. Because no one had ever said his name like that. So full of emotion and yearning and hope. He hadn't thought it was possible. But of course this boy before him – this beautiful, impossible boy – would do it. When he leaned over to brush his lips against Ronan's, it just felt like he stopped fighting against gravity.

It was a chaste kiss. Adam caressed Ronan's soft mouth once, twice, because he didn't know what else to do, and retreated slightly, feeling as if his heart was going to jump out of his throat. He tried not to let fear overtake him when he realized that Ronan hadn't kissed back. Fortunately, he only had to lean back just enough to look at Ronan's surprised face before his frozen friend came out of his stupor and leaned this time towards Adam to return the kiss.

It was soft and sweet and slow. And nothing like he'd thought a kiss from Ronan would be.

Ronan took Adam's bottom lip between his, held it for a couple of beats, and did the same to his upper lip, letting Adam feel the wetness from Ronan's inside part of his lips. Adam tried to imitate the movements of Ronan's mouth, distantly wondering if he was doing it right, if his friend seemed to know what to do because he'd done it before, hoping his kiss wasn't disappointing...

The tender, wet friction of their lips produced faint sounds that were making Adam's hands shake slightly where they rested over his own legs, and he could feel Ronan's gentle exhales on his face as they changed the angle of their heads. It had never occurred to him all the different sensations involved in a kiss, and he was finding himself fascinated by them all.

Their mouths were opening more now, their tongues sneaking out briefly to taste lips, until Ronan seemed to tire of that. He cupped Adam's face with one hand, as if telling him to stay still, and traced Adam's upper lip with the tip of his tongue in an affectionate slide to the corner of the other's mouth. As he was lavishing the same attention to Adam's lower lip, he slid his tongue past Adam's pliable lip and grazed his teeth and tongue with his own for a second before retreating again.

The move caused Adam's stomach to jump, like when he missed a step coming down the stairs or when the camaro drove down a especially steep road at full speed. He couldn't contain his gasp at the sensation. Although it had been very quiet, Adam lost any hope of Ronan not having heard the embarrassing sound when said boy pressed their lips together more firmly, more urgently, taking a deep breath from his nose. Then, with his free hand he applied the slightest pressure on Adam's chin to open more his mouth as he slid his tongue in it, deeper than before. Adam's heart quickened its beats as warmth exploded in his stomach.

Adam wanted to touch Ronan too, to have something to ground him. He thought about lifting his hand to the other's face, but it would require for him to open his eyes and Adam's eyelids felt so heavy, like they were glued shut, as he was using all his focus in the movements of his tongue against Ronan's. Therefore, he reached for the general area of Ronan's torso and landed his hand on Ronan's clothed stomach before sliding it to the side and settling it on his hip.

The inadvertent caress together with a lick to the roof of Ronan's mouth tore a low sound from Ronan's chest that had Adam's blood pumping thicker through his veins and his hand tightening on the other's hip.

Somehow, the intensity of the moment made them both pull back, surprised at their loud breathing, at the frantic drumming of their hearts, at the fire cursing through their bodies. As if they had reached a silent agreement, they went back to less urgent kisses – simpler, but no less intoxicating – in order to catch their breath.

They caressed each other's lips with slowing strokes until they stopped, breathing against the other's mouth with their foreheads pressed together.

After a silent moment in which Adam's mind was still hazy from the kiss, Ronan pulled back to look at Adam and the reality of what had just happened came crushing down. Ronan was gazing at him with heavy-lidded eyes, red lips and lightly blushing cheeks, and Adam felt like he should say something, but didn't know what. After a minute in which Ronan seemed to also be searching for words, the other boy finally cleared his throat and said,

“How's your head?”

For some reason, the awkward question tore a nervous laugh out of Adam.

“Much better, thanks. Was that just now part of the treatment?” He was mainly joking, but he also needed to know what that kiss meant for the both of them.

“No,” Ronan answered with a serious expression.

“Then what was it?” Adam pressed. He should have know that the question would piss Ronan off. His friend never took well being interrogated about his feelings.

“I knew you were an unpopular loser, Parrish, but I thought even you'd recognize a kiss,” he snarled.

He knew he shouldn't let Ronan's words affect him, they'd said much worse things to each other, after all. But he was feeling exposed in the aftermath of such an intimate kiss, after having felt his defenses lower before Ronan, and so the words smarted and made his doubts come back. He leaned even farther away from Ronan, trying to put some physical as well as emotional distance between them.

“Maybe I'm asking because it doesn't make sense.”

Ronan frowned at Adam's cold remark. “What?”

“You heard me. This. Us. It doesn't make sense. We are too different, we fight all the time.”

“That never stopped us from being friends.”

“This would be different and you know it,” Adam said severely. “If we... if things got ugly, it would affect the group too.” In that moment, Adam couldn't tell Ronan how much losing his friendship, specifically, would pain him.

“Right,” Ronan spat sarcastically. “Like it tore us all apart when Blue and you broke up.”

“It wouldn't be the same, Blue and I weren't just friends at first...”

“It seems to me you're looking for excuses,” the other interrupted him, frustrated.

“Ronan...”

Suddenly, Ronan vanished the distance between them and kissed him. And Adam had half a mind to yell at him – even if he couldn't help closing his eyes – because he was trying to have a conversation and Ronan seemed to be trying to distract him. But before he could put his thoughts together to form a complaint, the kiss was over. Ronan took Adam's hand and guided it to his neck, against his pulse, while he pressed his fingers against Adam's equally fluttering pulse in turn.

“ _This_ is the only sense it needs to make,” Ronan said passionately. And this was so much like him, because why would Ronan use words when he could use actions? He was looking at Adam with so much conviction and emotion that it made Adam's heart tremble. “At least to me.” He seemed to deflate a bit after those words. “But this isn't a decision I can take for you. It doesn't mean anything if you don't choose it for yourself.”

Adam hesitated and swallowed drily. His lips were tingling, his mind kept replaying the feeling of Ronan's touch on his skin. A part of him knew that they could have something good... but for how long?

He knew that he should argue, fight back, protect himself... but he _wanted_.

He wanted and Ronan was right in front of him saying that he could _have_. And he was so tired of missing the things that he wanted.

Ronan was observing him while Adam fought quietly with himself. As the silence extended, Ronan's shoulders started to drop wearily, the previously determined shine in his eyes started to dull.

“Adam...” Ronan's mumble pulled him back into the present. His friend looked defeated and was pulling away.

Suddenly, Adam couldn't take the loss of his warmth.

This time, he pulled Ronan to him with a hand behind his neck and proceeded to kiss him with everything he had. In his kiss, Adam tried to convey all his want and his affection towards Ronan, but also his frustration at not being able to deny him, his doubt, his fear of losing him... It was much more than a kiss, and it shook them both.

After they broke apart, Adam spoke, his voice heavy with feeling, “I want you– I want this.”

Ronan didn't immediately react to that statement, he kept looking deep into Adam's eyes, searching for hesitation, for a lie...

When he found none, his lips stretched slowly on a smile so wide, so brilliant, so full of affection, that it changed his whole face and warmed his deep blue eyes.

Adam was distantly aware that he might be gaping, but he didn't really care, especially since Ronan took his slightly open mouth as an invitation to kiss him tenderly, adoringly, making Adam's chest burn anew.

“You can't back down now,” Ronan warned when they separated.

“I don't want to back down. I'm just... it just seems so...”

“Impossible?” Ronan suggested, with a knowing smirk and an irresistibly reckless glint in his eyes. “You speak with trees and I dream shit up into existence. I think we got impossible under control.”

Adam couldn't help but smile at that, drinking up Ronan's confidence. He took Ronan's hands in his, impulsively, and laced their fingers. He thought about how strong they had been working together in that cave.

As Ronan leaned in for one more maddening kiss, Adam's last thought was that maybe everything would be alright as long as they were together.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTES: If you're wondering the same thing as Adam (why does Ronan seem to know what he's doing during the kiss?) The answer is, it's bc he's got something Adam doesn't have. Experience? NOPE. A laptop with internet connection that allowed him to search for kissing tips. (he totally would and yOU KNOW IT)  
> Also, he's totally not as smooth as Adam made him sound. He was a nervous mess and his hands were shaking (bless him), but Adam was too distracted to notice e___e.
> 
> Thank you very much for reading! Comments would be appreciated and I'm always down for some fangirling about TRC-- You can find me on tumblr as atardisbluenight ^^  
> xoxo


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